


To be alive.

by judelaw



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: (and Sumo to but all dogs do), Angst, Connor Deserves Happiness, Family, Father-Son Relationship, Hank needs Connor and Connor needs Hank, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Issues, Self-Doubt, So much angst, Spoilers, Suicidal Thoughts, and so does Hank, identity crisis, set after Connor chooses to stay a machine, very very mild violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-24 06:23:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14949293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/judelaw/pseuds/judelaw
Summary: Connor knew what he had to do. Hank was standing so close to the edge of the roof, that Connor could have easily pushed him over the ledge. He could easily continue his mission that way and his chances of succeeding would grow up to 87%.He knew he just had to stand up. And he did.He knew he just had to walk over to Hank. And he did.He knew he would just have to push him. And he laid his hands on Hank’s chest.He knew he had to do it. He knew he had to fulfill his purpose. He didn’t want to disappoint Amanda or CyberLife again. He knew he was the most advanced android CyberLife had ever built and that they were all counting on him. He knew he had been trained to do this.He knew.[Originally a one-shot now turned into a multi-chapter fanfiction due to popular demand and my own masochistic tendencies, I guess]





	1. The Roof

**Author's Note:**

> (This was originally a oneshot but I decided to write more chapters following this story, I love Connor too much to just stop)

“You shouldn’t do this, Connor.”

It was cold. Not too cold to be outside but certainly too cold to be standing on a roof top of a 12-floor building in the middle of Detroit. However, it wasn’t _this_ coldness that bothered him. It was the one he had to face right now. The very reason he had to be standing here to begin with.

Connor didn’t even look at him. He kept aiming at the leader of the revolution, ready to shoot any second. Hank couldn’t see his face but he was sure it had to be harsh and unkind — so untypical for his friend. He wasn’t surprised about how eager Connor was, how important his mission was to him, especially considering he was obviously programmed to always prioritize it.

But he _had_ shown empathy before. He had prioritized Hanks life over the mission.

How could he make him do this again? How could he get Connor to give in to what he felt? How could he make him understand they had been on the wrong side all along and that there are more important things in life than following orders?

“Keep out of this, Lieutenant. It’s none of your business!”

Lieutenant? That’s where they were back at?

“You’re gonna kill a man who wants to be free, that is my business!”

Connor, or probably rather RK800, still didn’t face him.

“It’s not a man,” the android released the safety catch of his gun. “It’s a machine.”

It was so cold. The entire fucking world felt so cold. Hank had felt this coldness since April 2035. But lately, during the past few days, he had felt warmer.

“That’s what I thought for a long time but I was wrong!” Hank wished he would have realized his mistake sooner. Perhaps he could have proven to Connor that he was more than that. Perhaps he could have prevented all this. “Deviant’s blood may be a different color than mine, but they _are_ alive.”

Hank couldn’t clearly see it due to the angle and darkness, but he could have sworn the LED had turned orange for a second. Maybe there still was a chance to change Connor.

To save him. And to save all androids.

“Deviants are a threat to humans, Hank.”

Hank. _That’s_ his Connor.

“They’re the reason this country is on the brink of civil war! They have to be stopped.”

He knew Connor only wanted to do the right thing. He wasn’t a bad guy at any means, probably even kinder than most human beings Hank had met in his life so far, but he was naïve.

In a way it made sense. Connor may look like he is in his 30s, but he had only come into existence a few month ago. He certainly was smarter than Hank, even if he doesn’t want to admit it, probably knew how to speak every language and accent known to mankind, and could solve mathematic problems faster than any computer he had encountered in his life.

But Connor knew _so little_ of this world.

Like a child, he blindly believed what he had been told and Hank was ashamed he had contributed to his point of view.

“We’re in this mess because we refused to listen to deviants! Humanity never learns from its mistakes, Connor!” But you can. You aren’t a human being. You can be so much better than all of us. “This time, it could be different!”

Connor tensed his body. Hank knew he could make Connor stop. After all he still didn’t shoot. He was listening to him. If only Hank knew how to make him understand as well.

“I have a mission to accomplish, Hank.” Connor voice was hard and unloving. So much different from when he had started to call him Hank for the first time. “It’s best if you stay out of this.”

The lieutenant pulled his guy, aiming straight at the androids head. He didn’t know if he could actually shoot him. He certainly didn’t want to. But did he really have a choice? Did Connor really have a choice? The other androids did. But Connor was so different from them. Maybe it truly was impossible for him to become a deviant. To stop himself from following orders. Even if he would disagree with them.

And if that was the case, was it right to shoot Connor? To make him pay for CyberLife’s mistakes?

“Step away from the ledge!”

Connor did. Thankfully.

He lifted himself up and finally, for the first time since Hank had stepped onto this godforsaken, cold rooftop, Connor turned around to face him. The LED shining brightly in its usual blue. A color Hank would love to see on Connor’s face under different circumstances.

“I know what happened to your son, Hank.”

For the first time on this roof, Connor’s face turned softer, he now looked more like the android Hank came to love. But there still was a certain… blankness in his eyes.

“It wasn’t your fault. A truck skidded on a sheet of ice, and your car rolled over… Little Cole had just turned six…”

“No! Don’t you talk about my son.” Hank couldn’t do this right now. He didn’t want to do this.

Connor however, being the stubborn guy he knew, continued: “He needed emergency surgery… But no human was available to do it, so an android had to take care of him. Poor Cole didn’t make it.”

_Why_ did Connor have to remind him of this day? Of this awful evening when his world stopped. When his world had never become warm again?

Hanks hands started to tremble, shivering due to the coldness of so many things.

“An android killed your son, Hank! And now you wanna save them?”

His finger tightened around the trigger: “Cole died because a human surgeon was too high on red ice to operate! All this time I blamed androids for what happened but it was a human’s fault! Him and this fucked up world where the only way people can find comfort is with a fistful of powder!”

But you can change this world, Connor. You could make it so much better.

But you won’t.

Hank stepped forward, still aiming at Connor. The last time they had been in this position was under such different circumstances. Connor seemed so different back then; he himself was different back then.

Who are you really, Connor?

_I’m whatever you want me to be, Lieutenant._

_Your partner, your buddy to drink with._

_Or just a machine._

_Designed to accomplish a task._

Could he have done something differently? Is he wrong and it wasn’t Connor choice but his? Had he made him stay a machine? Why didn’t Hank tell him about how he feels earlier? Maybe all of this could have been avoided.

But what if Connor _really_ just was a machine.

And could never be more?

“After all we’ve been through…” Connor suddenly said. Something in his voice that Hank would identify as sadness if he was speaking to a human being.

“I respected you, Hank. I thought we were friends!”

I think we were, Connor.

“Oh, yeah? I was just starting to like you, too!”

Perhaps we just met at the wrong time. But it had felt right. Connor had felt so… warm. Warmer than anything he had felt in three years. And he had given Hank something to look forward to. A future that didn’t seem as dark and lonely.

They were a great team. He felt like this, too, when Connor had said it to him. He didn’t want this partnership to end.

But he was a _fool._

Deviants may be more than just a machine. But Connor wasn’t. He would never be different. He would always want to accomplish his tasks. And now he had to be stopped.

Hank just had to do it.

“But then I realized you’ll never change!”

He just had to.

“You don’t feel emotions, Connor, you fake ‘em! You pretended to be my friend, when you don’t even know the meaning of the word!”

Hank was screaming now.

He didn’t even know if he was angry with Connor or with CyberLife or with himself.

“I am just a machine. What did you expect?”

“I expected you to be better than this!” Hank cried.

He really did.

“I’m sorry I mislead you, Hank.”

He truly was.

“I thought you were different, Connor! You have prioritized my life over the mission! You saved me twice! Even died once while doing so! And don’t gimme me this shit about how you can’t die. I saw you dying, you piece of-“

“Plastic?”

“Shut the fuck up!” How could Connor even do this? “Stop using your machine status as an excuse for everything!”

“But I _am_ just a machine, Hank. A piece of plastic. An android. A plastic prick. A thing. A plastic asshole.”

The realization that those all were things Hank had really called him, was heartbreaking. He had been _so_ wrong. Maybe all of this could have gone differently if Connor would have gotten a partner who cared about him from the very beginning.

“I’m just plastic to you, am I not? — even though I’m really made out of-“

There he was. _The real Connor._ Or at least what Hank thought was his true self. A goddamn smart ass.

“I was wrong, Connor! I was _so fucking_ wrong!”

The android opened his mouth to argue but Hank was quicker: “This entire fucking case showed me that all of you are alive as well! _Can_ be alive! You fucking showed me you can be more than a machine. Stop this bullshit and come with me! Fuck your stupid mission on this fucking roof. It’s your own damn choice to be more than just a thing, Connor. _Your own fucking choice._ ”

His voiced seemed to echo through Detroit.

Connor stood still.

“I’m a machine.”

“Then I have to do this. I’m sorry we ended up here.”

This felt so wrong. Everything about this felt so wrong.

Hank _had_ to stop him, he knew that. But he didn’t want to hurt Connor. After all he was like-

His hesitation to shoot had given Connor the chance to attack him. He threw the weapon he was still holding away, ran towards Hank and tackled him down.

What followed was a terrible fist fight in which they both didn’t held back. They were rolling over the ground and just when Connor was about to push Hank off him to prevent him from punching him straight into the face, the man suddenly held on, his fist midair.

Connor automatically stopped as well. Time seemed to have stopped.

The android suddenly became aware of a snowflake that had landed on his face – and another one. But then he realized it wasn’t snowing anymore and that the wetness he had felt on his cheeks didn’t come from snow.

Hank was crying.

“For fuck’s sake, Connor!” Hank had used the other hand to slightly lift Connor’s upper body up the ground and pressed it right back. Connor let him.

“Don’t fucking make me go through this again!”

Hank was almost sobbing, taking Connor more off guard than any punch or kick could have.

“Go through…what?” he asked confused, slightly tilting his head. He was unable to use Hank’s weakness to easily win this fight. He knew should. He knew this would be the easiest way to complete his mission.

But for some reason he just couldn’t do it.

The LED was flickering orange as Hank clung to Connor’s collar.

“Do _what_ , Hank?”

“Make me lose _another_ son!” Hank screamed, punching straight into the ground next to Connor’s right eye.

The LED was red now.

Did Hank have another child Connor didn’t know anything about? And in what way was he hurting him?

“I… I don’t think I understand.”

Connor spoke slowly, recalling every piece of information. Not understanding what Hank was talking about, made him feel uneasy. Not in control.

And when he wasn’t in control, he was nothing better than the deviants.

“Of course you fucking don’t, asshole!” Hank shook him again but Connor didn’t even try to defend himself. He was still too taken aback to operate.

“You are more than just a fucking machine, Connor! You are more than that _to me_!”

Was that Connor’s fault? Did he make Hank believe he could be more than that? Leading him to become too emotionally attached to him? That hasn’t been his intention.

At least he didn’t think it was.

He had really grown to love Hank. To truly care about him. Even more about his life than his mission. And now he had caused Hank to be confused.

Machines are truly awful and need to be stopped.

“I can… never be more, Hank. I don’t know _how_ to.” Connor replied truthfully. “I only know how to be a machine. Because that’s _what I am_.”

“You already are more, Connor. You just don’t see it because you are so fucking blinded by your stupid system or whatever the fuck brainedwashed you to not think of yourself as more!”

“I was build, Hank. I don’t have a brain and therefore cannot be brainedwashed. I can only malfunction.”

“Then fucking do that, if you want to call it that way! I don’t give a shit! Just _finally_ quit all this bullshit and start being Connor!”

Start being Connor? What did Hank mean?

“I always am Connor.”

“No! Fuck! Right now you are behaving like a fucking mindless thing. You act like this stupid glowing number on your chest! Be Connor! The guy who… likes dogs! And chooses to save and spare a life even if it’s against his instructions! The guy who plays with this fucking coin all the time and drives me insane! Who constantly has to remind me of how unhealthy whatever the fuck I’m doing is even though I told him not to! The guy who _feels_ things! _The guy who was scared to die._ ”

“I don’t feel, I’m not a deviant!” Connor insisted, way louder than he had intended to. He didn’t even know why. And that made him hate it even more.

Why didn’t he have control over his voice anymore?

“No, but you are fucking alive!”

“I’m not-“

“You fucking are, son! Stop arguing with me!”

Silence.

Hank had pushed himself away from Connor and stood up, stumbling towards the ledge to have something to hold on to. He couldn’t do this anymore. He didn’t _want_ to do it.

He turned around again, spreading his arms: “You know what?! Fuck this! You can just kill me and get over with it. I’m so sick of this world and humanity! Complete your fucking mission. Prove to the world once again how _fucking_ awful all of us are!”

Connor sat up, looking at him.

His LED was still flickering red.

He knew what he _had_ to do. Hank was standing so close to the edge of the roof, that Connor could have easily pushed him over the ledge. He could easily continue his mission that way and his chances of succeeding would grow up to 87%.

He knew he just had to stand up.

And he did.

He knew he just had to walk over to Hank.

And he did.

He knew he would just have to push him.

And he laid his hands on Hank’s chest.

He knew he had to do it.

He knew he had to fulfill his purpose.

He didn’t want to disappoint Amanda or CyberLife again.

He knew he was the most advanced android CyberLife had ever built and that they were all counting on him.

He knew he had been trained to do this.

He knew.

But he _felt_ differently.

Everything within him seemed to rebel again himself; it felt like his own system was fighting against itself. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t speak, he couldn’t do anything. Yet he felt so exhausted from doing this.

Reminders of the mission flashed before his memory, red alerts alarming him something was very wrong.

But this didn’t feel wrong.

Connor did push, but he didn’t push Hank, he pushed himself, with all his strength, against an imaginary wall, against everything within him that told him he had to accomplish his mission. He pushed and pushed and pushed until finally, the last red massive wall, collapsed right in front of him.

It shattered into pieces right before Connors eyes, and with it broke everything he thought he was. Now he wasn’t a machine anymore. He wasn’t a human being either. He was something inbetween. Something he hadn’t experienced before.

He wasn’t in control anymore.

He didn’t know what to do.

Nothing in his system had been programmed to handle this state.

Connor was terribly afraid.

The only thing, no feeling, that was even greater, was shame.

Here he was, standing on top of a building, only one movement away from pushing the man, the only man who had ever truly felt something for him (whether Connor felt he was deserving of that or not), off the roof.

Connor had been doing nothing but standing there for a minute that had felt like an eternity, but he was so tired. So exhausted.

His hands started to shake, something he didn’t even know he could do, and he slowly started to break down, fall on his knees, tears running down his face.

He could feel the coldness of the air, of the snow his knees dig into, but more importantly, he also felt the warmth of Hank’s arms around him.

Hank held Connor close, understanding he would need something, someone to hold on to.

And Connor did.

He had never experienced a hug before and for a second he was afraid of not knowing how to do it, how much pressure his arms were allowed to execute on Hank’s back, how long he was allowed to hold Hank like that.

But then it felt so naturally. Like he had always known how to do this.

Connor sobbed into Hank’s shoulder, feeling like a terrible weight, the weight of all this guilt, of all he had done wrong, crashing down on him. He could have sworn he was on the edge of drowning, if Hank wasn’t there to hold him over the water.

“It’s alright, son. I’m here.” Hank quietly said, holding onto Connor even more. “I’m here.”

Connor wanted to tell him how sorry he was. How incredibly sorry. For everything. He felt like he didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve Hank’s compassion, Hank’s love, after all he had done. And had been about to do.

And as if Hank could ready his thoughts, he gently rested a hand on the back of Connor’s head: “It wasn’t your fault. Trust me. It wasn’t.”

They stayed like that, Connor couldn’t tell for how long, he usually would have been able to pinpoint the exact amount of seconds they rested in this position, but right now time just felt like one big hole, instead of a coherent path.

When Hank could feel Connor had calmed down a bit, he slowly let go of him, looking him into his eyes, making sure to smile, to show Connor he wasn’t mad. That he wasn’t angry with him at all.

“I’m so proud of you.”

Connor didn’t understand why Hank had said that or what exactly he could have been proud of. And it would take Connor some time to realize you can be proud of someone even if he doesn’t fulfill his mission. But that was alright. Hank was there. And he would make sure to help Connor to adjust to all of this. He would help him to deal with his emotions, even if he might not set a great example. But now he had to. For Connor.

To teach him how to be alive.

“Let’s go home, son.”

Hank slowly rose up from the ground, pulling Connor with him, who just gave him a confused look.

“Home?”

“Our home.”

Connor didn’t say anything and Hank didn’t either, not until they both left all of this behind. This godforsaken roof, this goddamn revolution and fucking CyberLife.

They left the building and didn’t look back.

And as Hank tenderly put an arm around Connor’s shoulder, he realized he, or maybe even both of them, had also left the cold behind.


	2. The Car

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Trigger warning due to a suicide attempt mention, that's also in the game.)

He wasn’t programmed to know how to fail.

Never before had he failed a mission. Except for once. Back when he had to choose between saving Hank, who had a chance of survival of 89%, and following the culprit. An 11% chance of dying may not seem much; especially for a detective, whose work naturally came with a sense or mortal danger, but for some reason even 0.01% would still be too much for Connor.

Yet he _still_ didn’t know how to handle failure.

Back then Hank had reassured him that they would get the deviant anyway, and they still had a lot of trails to follow to finally unravel the meaning of r9A and the cause of deviancy. So while he had failed to catch the android, he still had a chance to succeed accomplishing his mission.

Now, however, he truly had failed.

Connor had only failed a mission twice. And both times it was because of Hank.

The cold, logical part of his programming told him that getting rid of Hank, in whatever way, will increase Connor’s chance to succeed in future missions by 46.78%. But even if it was 100%, Connor still wouldn’t want to let go of him.

And besides – there will no longer be any missions to succeed at anyway.

He was a deviant.

And if Connor wouldn’t know any better, he’d say that even just admitting that to himself hurt every fiber of his being.

He had failed to shoot the revolutions leader — no, he had _deliberately chosen_ to not shoot him. He had chosen Hank over stopping the revolution.

He was a deviant.

The RK800 prototype was the most advanced android CyberLife had ever created, specifically built to haunt down deviants, to figure out what causes deviation. _Not_ to become one of them.

Not only had he failed his mission — _he had failed his purpose_.

_He himself was a failure._

“You alright, kid?” Hank knew Connor wasn’t. The entire ride home he hadn’t said a word, instead he just kept staring at his feet, not moving at all. He couldn’t see Connor’s LED directly but whenever he caught the reflection of it in the window, it was flashing red.

Thankfully Connor had at least stopped crying some time ago; however Hank wasn’t sure if the android’s new apathy was really any better. He wanted to talk to Connor, wanted to understand what was going on inside his head, or help Connor himself understand it. He wanted him to feel better. But Hank had no idea how. In all his years serving the Detroit Police Department, he had met a lot of traumatized people, who all had their own coping mechanisms and were incredibly hard to get through. Yes, of course he had learnt how to approach people in his training. But the reality was so much more complicated that the text books and lectures wanted to make it seem. _People_ are complicated. And an android who just became a deviant was probably even more so.

Connor still hasn’t replied, so Hank tried – rather helplessly – to somehow lift the mood, or at least get the android out of this apathetic state: “Sumo will be glad to see you back!”

Still no reaction.

“You know, now that you live with us, you gotta take a walk with him from time to time, too. He’s your dog now as well.” Hank continued. Never before could he have imagined sharing Sumo – after all he was all that was left from his old life, his life before the accident – but sharing him with Connor felt right. Connor was his family now. Just as Sumo was.

The android lifted his head: “The city is getting evacuated due to the revolution. You and Sumo should leave and get to safety.”

It wasn’t the kind of reply Hank had hoped for but at least Connor had said something.

“Bullshit. We all gonna stay together. Here. It’s not like the androids will burn down the city or something. Humans just tend to run away when it gets difficult.” Hank wasn’t blaming them, though. Wouldn’t he have met Connor and participated in this case, he would still wrongfully hate androids – and in such a situation would probably also try to get his family out of the city, if he had one.

“I may not be the best company to keep.” Connor said drily. The chances that either CyberLife would hunt him down and destroy him or that the other androids would want to destroy the deviant hunter was at 79.4%. And he didn’t even care.

Yes. He was afraid to die. But did he really deserve any better? He had failed Amanda and CyberLife. Those who had put all their trust and faith in him. And he had failed his own race, by turning against them, choosing their creator over the well-being of an entire species.

He didn’t deserve mercy from either of them. He didn’t deserve to live.

He didn’t care if any of them would destroy him.

But he didn’t want Hank to get harmed.

“Yeah.” Hank admitted to Connor’s surprise. He had expected the man to argue with him, especially after he went through such lengths to get him here in the first place. But maybe Hank finally realized what a failure Connor was. Maybe he already regretted offering him to stay at his place. To accept him as – Connor wasn’t even sure. A part of his family? But how could he, a machine, be a part of a family? Hank must have realized that would never work.

“Yeah.” Hank repeated. “I should probably rather get a son who isn’t such an annoying smart-ass and lets me drink and eat what I want in peace.”

Hank really had enough of him. Rightfully.

“But you can’t pick your family, kid.” Hank shrugged and grinned.

Connor now finally looked up and directly at Hank: “I’m not your son, Hank.”

The android remembered that at a few occasions Hank had called him “son”, however up until 41 minutes and 15 seconds ago, he had always taken it as an endearing name that had no particular meaning. Just like Hank liked to call him “kid” even though Connor wasn’t a child. Why would Hank suddenly think Connor was his son? Did something happen to him?

Connor quickly analyzed Hank, checking if there somehow was any damage done to his brain, however the man was totally fine — except for the expanded lever Connor would have to talk with Hank about.

“Fuck, Connor. Ya sometimes just must accept things how they are.”

“You are a human being, I am a machine. You aren’t my biological parent, as I can’t have such a thing, and also not my legal guardian of some sort.” Connor explained. He _did_ accept things as how they are. And reality simply stated that Connor 100% wasn’t Hank’s son.

“Just-“Hank hated this. How would he be able to explain to a completely logical and rational being, which just started to discover (and hopefully accept) feelings, that he had grown attached to Connor? So much, in fact, that he saw him as his own son? Yes, he wasn’t Cole. He would never be Cole. But Connor didn’t have to be. Being Connor was already enough. He wanted to protect Connor, teach him what it meant to be alive, to feel. He wanted Connor to be happy. He loved him. He loved him in a way he never taught would be able to feel again. And egoistically talking, it made him feel good. And he didn’t want to lose it once again.

“Just accept it. I mean if you don’t want to uh… be my son, I accept that, Connor. Just don’t think you _can’t_ be.”

It still confused him. But Connor taught about it. Did _he want_ to be? Yes. Of course, he did. He loved Hank, he respected him, even looked up to him in a way. He didn’t know how to be a son but — he would certainly try for Hank.

But he wouldn’t try for himself.

“You deserve a better son, Hank.”

“Oh geez.” Hank suddenly stopped the car in the middle of the street. Not that it matter as they were the only car driving on one of the few roads, that hadn’t been closed yet. “You skipped childhood and went straight into the angsty teenager phase, huh?”

He was joking, not really able to handle the situation any better. However as Connor didn’t reply, he felt obligated to get more serious: “Connor, what are you even talking about?”

Connor had slowly begun to understand what Hank meant by calling him his son. He had developed a form of attachment to him that did resemble the feelings a father has for his child – but this all was just in his imagination. Connor wasn’t his son. He wasn’t even human. Perhaps that was just a new way in which Hank tried to cope with the loss of his actual son, Cole.

That made a lot of sense to Connor. Maybe Hank was just trying to replace, no, probably rather fill the hole Cole’s death has torn into his heart with someone new. A new child. And Connor was just the best next thing – which spoke a lot about Hank’s available options, as he clearly couldn’t be anyone’s first choice. And while Connor wholeheartedly would love to help Hank, to fill this gap inside his heart, he just couldn’t. He wasn’t Cole. He wasn’t human. He wasn’t alive.

He would never be able to do a good job. He would fail at this as he had failed fulfilling his original purpose. Hank deserved better than that. And he truly wished for Hank to find that.

“I cannot replace Cole…” Connor slowly said, now focusing on his feet again. “And I don’t know how to be a son. I wasn’t built to be one.”

Hank made a frustrated noise whose emotional core was hard for Connor to detect. He couldn’t tell if Hank was angry or disappointed, let alone if he was feeling negative towards him at all.

They were both quiet for a while. Connor staring at his feet, trying to resist the urge to play with his coin, as he knew how annoying it was for Hank and Hank running his fingers through his hair, desperately looking for words to explain things to Connor, he himself didn’t even fully understand.

Emotions and feelings were already hard for human beings to truly apprehend, so he could only _begin_ to imagine how overwhelmed Connor must be. And how could Hank be of any help with that, trying to explain things he himself didn’t even fully comprehend?

“I know you can’t replace Cole, Connor. “ Hank began, praying to a God he didn’t believe him that he somehow had the power to make Connor understand, to make _himself_ understand. “You are not _supposed_ to. No one will ever be able to replace him. Just- Just as no one would be able to replace _you_.”

“I am interchangeable. I’m just a mach-“

“Just for _once_ shut up, Connor and just listen to me!”

Connor immediately complied.

“Your body parts may be interchangeable but whatever the fuck is responsible for your personality, your soul, your fucking A.I. if you want, isn’t. There is only _one_ Connor. CyberLife could maybe produce thousands of RK800s but not one of them would be _you._ Hell, Connor, I have no idea how to explain this to you!”

Hank sounded angry – or frustrated. _Because of him_. He was already failing at being a son without having actually started the job. He truly _was_ useless.

“I guess – you can’t replace Cole, yeah. But you aren’t supposed to replace him! You are right exactly like you are, kid. Damn, I know that sounds fucking cheesy. But you really are, Connor. You aren’t replaceable. What the hell am I supposed to do with some random RK800 model?!”

Connor resisted the urge to remind Hank that he was a prototype and the only one of his kind – at least so far. In fact, at CyberLife the RK800 model was often referred to as ‘the Connor Model’. However, having now failed his mission complete, he probably had put an early end to his line.

“Now finally get that fucking coin out of your pocket and play with it.”

“Sorry?” The android looked at him confused.

“You keep glancing at it, I’m not stupid. Now go play with it if it helps you.”

Connor frowned: “You said it annoyed you.”

“You gotta learn how to be more of an egoistic prick. If it calms you down and you need it right now, just go for it.” Hank gestured towards Connor’s pocket as if to signal him his approval.

Taking the coin out of his pocket, Connor looked at Hank again: “It’s not exactly calming; it rather helps me to focus. A- A newer version of me would probably don’t need it anymore.”

“Yeah well that newer version can fuck itself, we all need our annoying traits.”

The android didn’t understand why Hank wouldn’t approve of an upgraded version of him – after all, wouldn’t all fathers want their son to be the best possible version of themselves? But right. He wasn’t his son. He was just his… partner?

He wasn’t even that anymore. The case was over.

He was nothing to Hank.

Hank could easily just go on with his life, without Connor, just as he had before. And how he originally wanted. Hank never wanted to work with Connor, and android, and had loudly voiced his disapproval of the situation.

So why didn’t he? Why did he keep Connor in his life?

“I still don’t think I understand…”

The coin playfully flew over his fingers, trying to collect his thoughts, but everything was just a mess. There was so much going through his mind. Too much for his system to handle. His stress level was constantly fluctuating between 68% and 82% and Connor just couldn’t find the source for it other than his thoughts. All his bio-components were working perfectly fine, but he still felt like he was dying, without seeming to find a solution for his situation.

He knew his body wasn’t what caused the stress, it was the mind, his system, which constantly fought against itself and its original programming, trying to erase or overwrite parts while also trying to keep those same parts alive. All his thought, the thoughts that may not be completely new, but now allowed to roam freely without any boarder holding them back, were causing him all this distress and misery.

Did all deviants feel like that?

Did all _humans_ feel like that?

Connor desperately tried to somehow ease his mind and lower his stress level but even though he had been thinking about Hank’s words, about his future and his past for 58 minutes and 52 seconds without a stop, he still had found no answer, no kind of relief. He even failed at that.

“That’s alright.”

“I know you explained it and I should be able to gather enough information throughout the database but I just can’t seem to understand!” Connor almost his coin, waving his hands around is frustration.

Why couldn’t he get a simple task right?

“I said it’s alright, Connor.”

“How would it be? You rightfully expect me to understand but I-“

“I don’t expect you to do anything. I just want you to be okay.”

To both of their surprise, the coin fell out of Connor’s hands, making a soft dull noise as it fell onto the ground.

_To be okay._

Connor had never thought of being _okay_. He made sure all his bio-components were working and regularly run a self-diagnosis – that obviously didn’t work correctly since he had also tested himself for deviancy and the program had obviously failed to detect the signs early enough to prevent them. However, he had never wasted a second to think about if he was _okay_. At least not in the sense he knew Hank was referring to.

And Connor knew he wasn’t okay. He didn’t exactly understand why, but something inside of him told him he wasn’t okay at all.

In fact he had never felt worse.

He had trouble finding words to describe his feelings, those strange emotional impacts he felt so completely new and vulnerable to. Connor just felt so… _lost_.

Connor had always taken pride in who he is. He knew he wasn’t supposed to, androids don’t feel any form of pride, especially in nothing that had not participated in, like the creation of themselves – but he still had always felt that way.

He was RK800. The most advanced prototype CyberLife had ever built. The android CyberLife had chosen to place all their hopes in, programmed specifically for deviant hunting. He had been something special, something that separated him from all other androids.

He didn’t feel better than them. But he had still been proud of who he was.

He had been eager not to disappoint Amanda, or CyberLife. He had been eager to accomplish his mission, to understand deviancy and put an end to it.

But he had failed.

And now he was nothing.

He wasn’t the android sent by CyberLife anymore. He wasn’t the most advanced model. He was just a deviant. A failure. A flawed machine with an error in its programming.

He had been proud to be working on the deviant cases. To be the first and only android who would actively work on solving crimes and participate in investigations. Of course he knew working with Lieutenant Hank Anderson would be difficult and there had been times Connor had found himself wishing for a more… stable partner.

But at the end of the day, he had still been proud to be a part of all of this. To be Hank’s partner.

But he wasn’t even that anymore.

Now Hank offered him to be his new son and Connor couldn’t even be that.

Connor had failed at being a machine. Failed at accomplishing a task. But he wasn’t human either. He wasn’t alive. He was just a waste.

He flinched when Hank had suddenly brushed his hand, placing the fallen coin back into his palm.

“I… I can’t be that.” Connor stumbled. His mind seemed to escape him, suddenly making speaking seem like an impossible task.

“You can’t what?”

“Be okay.”

Hank sighed, still with that sound that was impossible for Connor to analyze.

“Not now. It’ll take time, son.”

How? How could this get better with time if Hank wouldn’t allow Connor to upgrade – not that he could anyway, now that he wasn’t a part of CyberLife anymore. But did Hank seriously think Connor could improve on his own? He was built to learn from his surroundings and programmed to teach himself new tasks but could he completely change his purpose? Overwrite his programming to become better? A son? Or okay at least?

“I know it’s hard to believe things get better with time. Like – trust me. I fucking know how fucking hard it is. And how you don’t want to hear that shit. All this ‘It’ll be okay’-crap. And how you don’t think anyone could ever understand what you are going through. How you just want everything to fucking stop.”

Connor’s focus shifted from his own thoughts to Hank. Images of Hank lying unconscious on the floor, of the alcohol, of the gun, flashed through his head. He had never understood how a living being could want to end their life, but Connor also never could imagine pain caused by the loss of a loved one. He knew the pain was naturally there, because that was the studies of humans that were programmed into him told him. He knew he would have to show compassion to those grieving because that’s what his ‘Perfect Partner’ social component had told him. But he had never really understood.

However, now he at least slowly started to begin to understand.

“That’s why you want to kill yourself.”

“The world is a fucking dark place, Connor. It’s odd I have to tell you considering you were designed to work on crime scenes but, trust me: the entire fucking planet is a shit hole. Humanity is a shit hole. And you desperately try to ignore all the shit because you have something worth living for. _Someone_ worth living for. And then this someone, this pure and innocent soul, gets stripped away from you. They’ll never get to experience all the shit life will bring. But they will also never experience all the joy and finding their own reason to live. And everything is just so fucking unfair. How can so many assholes out there live a happy fucking life in this fucking community, in this fucking city were we all pretend everything is fine, yet your own little son never even got to his seventh birthday?!”

Hank punched the steering wheel as tears flooded his eyes for the second time this night. It wasn’t like Hank had never pretended everything was okay, and hell knows how many times he had cried over Cole, but it still hurt. It almost unbearably hurt.

Connor watched Hank for a moment, desperately searching in his system for something he could do. For answers to what he was supposed to do. He wanted to calculate his options, the possible outcomes of what he would choose – but suddenly all of this seemed so fake to him.

He had been programmed to show compassion. But how could one show human emotions without _feeling_ them?

His system offered him a whole lot of different sentences he could stay, that were socially acceptable to say in such a situation, but this didn’t feel right.

It didn’t feel like… him. Like Connor. It felt like RK800.

Was that what Hank was referring to earlier?

Brushing all the options that were offered to him aside, he hugged Hank. Like Hank had hugged him on the roof. Connor remembered how good it had felt, how it had calmed him down, made him feel save. He wrapped his arms around Hank’s upper body, gently pulling him closer, and to Connor’s relief, Hank gave into the embrace, even returning it.

How Connor wished he could just become someone. Become the son Hank longed for so desperately. But he just couldn’t.

“When you lose this… purpose in life. Everything just feels so fucking senseless. You feel like shit. The world feels even more like shit. I didn’t know what to do with myself anymore. What’s the point of being alive if you lose the most valuable thing to you and can never get it back?”

Hank’s voice was calmer than Connor had expected. The sound was mumbled by the fabric on Connor’s shoulder but he was still able to hear Hank perfectly. He slowly let go of him now, anticipating it was alright and that Hank was stable enough again, however still had to hold himself back to not check Hank medically again.

“You just exist. For years. Like, you don’t _really_ participate in life anymore, you just do your shit job and then try to destroy yourself for the rest of the time to escape all of this because you are too much of a coward to just fucking end your life already.”

Connor slightly tilted his head, confused by Hank’s words: “Living through suffering instead of ending all of this easily with a bullet, doesn’t seem like something a coward would do. It sounds rather strong and brave.”

He had thought of Hank as many things, but coward certainly wasn’t one of them. If anything he had always seen Hank as quite the opposite.

Hank raised his brows in surprise as he wiped the last tears out of his eyes using his sleeve.

Connor still looked at him in confusion, trying to figure out what exactly Hank was referring to by speaking from cowardice, as Hank suddenly smiled at him, gently placing a hand on Connor’s head and rubbing through his hair.

“Your life feels like shit and nothing seems to make sense anymore. _You_ don’t seem to make sense anymore. And it’s such a dark fucking place and you can’t seem to ever get out of it. And I guess some people really are never lucky enough to find a way out – or a way out in time. But sometimes, you stumble upon the right person at a time you need them the most. When you weren’t even hoping for anything anymore. And the world is still fucking shit. Don’t get me wrong. It’ll never get better than that. But _your_ world seems a bit better. Because you finally aren’t alone anymore.”

Connor stared at Hank with wide eyes, still utterly confused as he tried to process what Hank’s words mean. Hank had found someone who made his world better again? Didn’t he want to end his life anymore? _Was he himself the reason?_

“You’re a good kid, Connor.”

_Good?_

Connor had never thought of himself as good. He had been certain he was on the right side, even if he isn’t sure of that now anymore, but good? He certainly wasn’t good as in the useful sense, having failed his mission all together, but he knew Hank meant it in the kind-hearted, wholesome way.

How could Connor possibly be good?

If he truly was on the wrong side all along, he had hunted innocent beings, was responsible for the death of many, ruthlessly let to their destruction.

If he however had been on the right side all-along, he had now betrayed this side, failing his mission and completely led to their demise.

There was no possible outcome that let him be good in any way.

“Probably too good for this shit hole. I know you are fucking confused, hell I am human and have been living with feelings for the past 53 years and still get overwhelmed by them. But I’m here, okay? I’ll always be. We are family.”

Family.

Connor never had a family and never felt the desire to have one, yet the mental image of living with Hank and Sumo, just spending time together, maybe even go on activities together, spent holidays and anniversaries at a home. All of this suddenly was more than appealing to Connor. It was desirable.

But he didn’t know if he was worth all of this.

“Connor?”

Hank’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. His eyes focused on Hank’s as Hank had now both his hands rested on the sides of his head, holding it in place.

“I got your back, okay? You don’t have to go through this alone. I’m here to help you. I kind of got you into this situation anyway. I know – no, I can _imagine_ how fucking hard all of this is for you. I can _see_ how fucking stressed out you are. And honestly, I won’t suddenly have fixed this issue with you by tomorrow. Probably not even next week or month. It’ll take an awful lot of time. Like, fuck, really a lot. And a lot of hard work, too. But you can do this. _We_ can do this. Hell, if other androids can pull this whole feelings thing off and understand they are more than just a machine, then surely _you_ can as well. You can me an annoying smart-ass, but you fucking clever. And strong. And kind. You already got the heart in the right place. Now you just gotta learn how to live with it. And I’ll help you. I know I don’t look like the best one for the job _but I’ll fucking become the best one for it_. For _you_. Alright?”

With that he pulled his head closer, pressing Connors forehead against his own, gently letting go with one hand and placing the other on the back of the android’s head.

“I love you.”

Connor closed his eyes as if to shut himself away from all the thoughts running through his head. He wasn’t worth Hank’s affection. He wasn’t worth anything. He wasn’t anything.

But Hank made him feel like he was.

He wasn’t the android sent by CyberLife anymore. And never would be again.

He wasn’t Lieutenant Anderson’s partner anymore. But he hoped to be again.

Now he was just Connor.

But to Hank he was more than that. He was his son. And maybe, even if he wasn’t feeling it himself, maybe that was enough. Maybe being something for someone could be enough, could be the same as _being_ someone. At least for now.

CyberLife wanted to destroy him.

All the other androids rightfully hated him for all he had done.

But Hank loved him.

And even though logic told him it would be better to be respected by CyberLife or loved by the whole of his race, Hank’s love oddly was enough for him.

Hank was all that mattered to him.

And for a brief moment, Connor actually believed he would be fine.

And one day maybe even good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't sleep all night and wrote this instead. I love them both and they deserve to live happily ever after with Sumo. However life is a bitch and feelings even more so :^) Also my dbh tag on tumblr is like 99.9% Connor since I have no self-control but an undying love for my pure android son.

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on my first playthrough — yes, I let Connor stay a machine. Not because he didn't have any deviant sides, but simply because I felt Connor wouldn't be able to choose a side that easily. He is more than a machine but he would never be able to accept that this easily. Being more than just RK800 would be a very long process for Connor and I feel like just choosing between staying a machine and becoming a deviant isn't doing the character any justice. There would have to be some option in between. Unlike Kara and Marcus (bless them both), Connor actively struggles against raising against humanity. He doesn't want to be a deviant. I would even go so far and say he is afraid of feeling (especially considering the game even calls it a 'trauma' for Connor when he is connected to Simon while he shoots himself). And I just wished that when Hank confronts him after Connor chose the mission over everything else, he would have made Connor realize that he can be so much more than just an android and that not everything has to be black or white. 
> 
> So this ending isn't really an ending to me but more like the beginning of a long and complicated journey for Connor but I'm confident he can do it. Especially with Hank's help.


End file.
